


WWE Trash Here

by Underestimated_amateur



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Additional Relationships To Be Added Later, Angst, Because that's cute af, Cause I like those things okay, Character Study, Character definement, F/F, Fluff, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Multi, Sometimes Kayfabe compliant, Tag As I Go, additional tags to be added later, forehead kissing, inner monologue, mentions of polygamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:46:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underestimated_amateur/pseuds/Underestimated_amateur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some drabbles that have been filling up my notes app on my phone. Some are set in earlier episodes of WWE because that's when I wrote them. Tags and relationships will be added as I go. I'm a sucker for character study and observation okay? Bite me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In A Name

**Author's Note:**

> Set back when Charlotte still had her father at her side and the Women's belt was called the Diva's Championship.   
> Charlotte and Becky's POVs.

She walks into view of the camera when she hears her name with steady assured steps, her chin high and title slung over her shoulder. It's a backstage interview, her interview. The mic is by her lips and camera completely on her as the world waits to hear what she has to say. She smiles and can't help think about how RIGHT this is. She should have this spotlight all the time, she deserves it, she's EARNED it. She knows she is the best Diva's Champion there ever was and will be. She was born to be a winner, the blood of a champion runs threw her veins. She feels proud of herself, but more importantly, she can feel how proud her dad is. He stands behind her and she knows that's where he should be. He's watching her role now, and that is perfect. The interview starts and words fly out of her mouth, proud and poised, like a true champ.

"Let me tell you a little secret about Sasha, okay? Before her very first match at NXT I–" She leans in, pointing at her chest, "ME– I was holding her hair back as she threw up because of nerves. Now, she just walks around here like she owns the place." She scoffs, "I don't see Sasha as 'The Boss', I see as the scared little girl she is." 

She doesn't stop there, why would she? Why should she?

"And Becky? I can remember after we were done training, Becky would stand there awkwardly, waiting, begging, to just be included." She grins, because she can. She is the champion, the best there is. She is better than both of them and soon she'll prove it. They are merely stepping stones in her greatness. Flys that needed swatting away. People to be put in their place. They are in her shadow and that is where they'll stay. She is Charlotte Flair, and she'll make sure that name is important. Not just because she is a Flair, but because she is Charlotte. 

 

*

 

Becky frowns as she watches Charlotte's interview, bile rising in her throat. That's always been who she was though, wasn't it? The weird little girl awkwardly wanting to be involved. She trailed after Paige and Charlotte back when they were a team, back when they were friends. 

But that little period was over now. She was standing on her own to feet. She was on her own, well, sort of. She's still not sure what her and Sasha are. 

She sighs, looking away from the screen and leaves to find her... temporary ally of sorts. 

Whatever Charlotte or Sasha's problem was it didn't matter. It wasn't a time for her to feel sorry for herself. She's no body's punching bag. It was time to show anyone that wanted to push her, she'd push back. Harder. It was a time to show the world what she could do.

It was time to make the nickname The Irish Lass Kicker a name to be respected.

 

*

 

Sasha is fierce, demanding, and strong, just as she is self-entitled, stubborn, and cocky, Becky thinks. There's pieces of 'The Boss' that reminds her of her old teammates. The way she'd throw in an insult, toss her hair over her shoulder, and walk away like she deserved to be here, deserved respect. The way she spoke like she could do anything she set her mind to and walked like she was the next best thing. Becky saw a bit of Paige and Charlotte in her, but she knew Sasha wasn't them. She was SASHA. 

 

And maybe after losing what she had with Paige and Charlotte and after helping The Boss out when Sasha's team broke apart right in front of her, maybe deep down in the darkest parts of her mind she had hoped they could be something. Something like a team. In some case, maybe replace what she had lost.

And it's probably a pointless effort, she knows. Friendships and teams aren't as easily made as they are broken in WWE. She knows that now. 

Still. She remembers Charlotte's interview and she wonders how bad Sash's nerves really are. Who holds her hair back now?

 

Standing in front of the room belonging to Sash Banks, she knocks at the door.


	2. Between A Uso and Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some drabbles that have been filling up my notes app on my phone. Some are set in earlier episodes of WWE because that's when I wrote them. Tags and relationships will be added as I go. I'm a sucker for character study and observation okay? Bite me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything polygamy isn't your thing, skip over this one. Also, I use real names here, DEAL WITH IT.
> 
> Jimmy = John  
> Jey = Josh  
> Dolph = Nick

He doesn't understand why some can't tell them apart. They look alike, sure. They're a set in almost everything, yeah. But they're not exact clones. He knows he doesn't have much of a right to say anything out loud to anyone. At one point, he himself was one of those people. The ones who would point and say, 'That was Jimmy right? The one on the left? No? Oh well, same difference.' 

 

Then things changed and their jobs forced interaction. After partnering with them, training with them– hell, even speaking to them, he quickly learns they're different. Different from other wrestlers and different from each other. 

 

*

 

At some point, outside of the ring Jey somehow becomes Joshua, or Josh for short, and Jimmy becomes Jonathan, but mostly just John. It happened so naturally that he didn't even notice it at first. It wasn't until one day they were backstage, arms casually thrown over each other's shoulders, sporting winning grins and matching face paint. One of them– John, slapped his back and said, "Aye man, great job out there tonight, Nick." Ziggler had paused, whirling his head around to look at the twin. Real names were rare if they weren't your show names, even backstage. The Samoan man only smiled. The blonde stole a look at the man's brother and found said male with the same expression. He looked back at John and grinned, "Thanks man. You guys too." 

 

It was weeks later did they have a match together again. They had won this time too, and they let everyone know it by the way they cheered through the backstage halls. In the locker room, he had jumped onto Josh's front, wrapping his legs around the other's waist, grabbing his head and giving him a nuggie. The gesture was out of pure adrenaline and joy, and was meant to be harmless enough. He laughed as he felt the man's arms wrap around him in return as the two laughed with him. Instead of setting him back down right away and giving him a revenge nuggie like he had thought the twin would, Josh carried him all the way to his locker with an occasional bounce in his step. They paraded him around like him was some kind of trophy, like his was THEIR trophy. He wonders if Josh felt like he was back in high school when he'd played football. He wonders if they ever took home gold. It makes him briefly think about his own high school days, even back then he was in love with wrestling.

It was just them in the locker room when Josh finally did set him down. Just as his feet touched the floor he felt himself be jerked to the right. Before he could say anything, John grabbed him by the head and gave him a kiss to his crown. His eyes widen as the man pulled back with a grin. He turned to look over at Josh, but the other didn't bat an eyelash and just grinned his way too. They both had pretty smiles, he's always noticed. Slowly, he grins right back at the both of them, ignoring his out of control heartbeat. 

 

They are different, but he's in love with them all the same.


	3. You Can't See Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aj's confrontation with John Cena on Monday night Raw. John's POV.

"John, guys like you bury guys like me." Aj retorts.

 

That catches him off guard.

For a brief moment he thinks of Zach Ryder, thinks of Damien Sandow, of Umaga, and others. He flashes back to the endings of his feuds with Ryback and with The Miz. Thinks about ruining Brock Lesnar's famous return. And he knows the other man isn't completely wrong. 

 

He tries not to give Styles any facial expression to go off of, doesn't like giving others the satisfaction that what's being said finally strikes a nerve. And all he can think about was who the hell this guy thought he was to come out like this; like he owned the place.

But deep down he knows he gets it, gets the whole making a name for himself kind of thing. He wants to have a place in the business he wants, one he can be proud of. He wants to be one of the great ones no matter how much he has to scratch, claw, and stumble to get it. Understandable. Hell, it's been years but he remembers his own day view like it was yesterday. Remembers marching up to the ring for the first time in his neon short shorts and knee high boots, looking Kurt Angle in the eye and proclaiming he had what it takes, had 'ruthless aggression'. Remembers the rush and the desperation, the excitement and the nervousness. And when the crowd cheers for you for the first time you feel it vibrate in your very soul. He remembers soaking as much of it in as he could. The sound stays with you in the back of your mind for the rest of your life. He gets it. 

So the 'phenomenal' man can push and poke where he wants. Can run around and strut his stuff. He may have had experience else where, but here he's still new, still a rookie. And if he's trying to change that, good for him. So John lets him come out here and talk crap, spew insult after insult like he knows what he's proclaiming, say all the things he's heard before. Let him talk big and bad. 

 

But he isn't Jericho. The name John Cena won't be stomped on just so Aj Styles is a bit higher in popularity. He's never took anything without dishing some back out. He may have just got back, but he's John Cena, and maybe some people say he sucks, scream at the top of their lungs they hate him, yell every week about how he can't wrestle. But he likes to think he means something to people in a good way too. He knows he is where he belongs and he doesn't have to shout it at the rooftops like the man before him. 

He doesn't want to bury anybody.

But he's damn sure there's no way in hell he'll let himself be walked upon. 

 

He's John Cena, and a guy like Aj Styles can't see him.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I know why I wrote this? No. Did this just sort of happen? Yep. Did I post this trash here anyways? Apparently I did. *Walks away in shame*
> 
> Comment and tell me what you think?


	4. One Night Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte and Sasha's confrontation after Sasha wins the belt, also Jericho at the end.

That night had been a mistake, she was never meant to lose what she rightfully deserved.

"I can't seem to put my finger on it." Sasha smirks smugly, tapping the Women's title with her dirty little finger, flipping her wanna-be-punk, freak colored hair back. Her eyes shine like she owns the world, like she has it all figured out. It's disgusting. The title, that symbol of power and greatness, looks wrong sitting on her shoulder. That is HERS, not Sasha's, not 'please notice me' Becky, it's Charlotte Flair's. The belt belongs to her. Who does this little girl think she is to come out here, flash her cheap dollar store jewelry, and run her loud mouth? She's had the title for what, hours? Try over 300 days. At least she EARNED the right to brag, unlike this brat.

Sasha continues to try to get under her skin, rattle her even further. It won't work, she tells herself, she's better than that. So she doesn't her best to ignore the way her skin crawls and blood silently boils. She's never needed anyone, she reminds herself, never has and never will. Not her apprentice, not her father. She made that clear when she dropped that old sack of yesterday's news on the side of the street.

Charlotte smiles, full of sarcasm and bitterness, like she doesn't want to snap the other's pretty little neck. She opens her mouth and tells it like it is, venom dripping from her lips. It was a mistake, a stroke of luck. Lightning won't strike twice and she'll get the belt back. All Sasha’s victory was is a once in a lifetime thing, a sloppy one night stand.

"A one night stand?" Sasha raises a brow, "Sweetheart, you're the daughter of Rick Flair. If it wasn't for a one night stand, you probably wouldn't even be standing here!" Ms. Street Trash Queen quips, eyes narrowed in challenge. Charlotte doubles back, feeling her jaw drop at the accusation. Again, who the hell does she think she's talking to? She's Charlotte Flair, the woman who made the women's roster what it is today. Sasha should be on her knees thanking her for carrying their division for so long.

As she tries to think of a comeback to hit it where it hurts there's suddenly another voice calling out to them. They both turn in confusion and see Chris Jericho strolling into the picture. He has his own words to pick at Sasha. So Charlotte steps back and lets the man go at it, watching with sick satisfaction as Banks shrinks into herself more. And ah, there it is. There's the scared little girl she knows Sasha really is. She smirks, enjoying her rival squirm.

And then Enzo's music hits.

 

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made other thing, here you go.


	5. Show Me What You Got

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Dolph talking before Dolph's match with Wyatt. Can be seen as platonic or romance. Tuesday Night Smackdown 8/2/16

Dean thinks no one really gets him. Some come close like Roman, once upon a time like Scumbag Seth, but that's fine if he's maybe a bit more observant, more keen, he may understand more than what everyone likes to walk around and think.

He's not doing this because he's suddenly 'The Man', suddenly the Kingpin of Smackdown. He's not doing this to make an example of the other or to flaunt what he has. He's never felt the need to prove anything to anyone and that hasn't changed. He doesn't hate Dolph nor look down on the man. He doesn't envy him or want to put him in his place or whatever else people use as a reason to knock someone upside the head around here. He actually respects him. He sees the man's struggles and all the years he's been trying his hardest. They say you can see a person's soul in their eyes. Dean thinks it's a load of bull, something you'd put in a fortune cookie. But he can kind of make sense of the mumbo-jumbo with Dolph and he gets what the guy's about. He can see the want and desire, see the fire in his blue eyes. And he's got potential, got the heart and determination.

And Dean knows he can ignore all of that. He can ignore it and beat him one, two, three in one match then be done with it entirely. That's not how he's going to do it, though. No, he's not going to be like any other opponent Ziggler has faced. He's not going to brush this wrestler off, not because he's a nice guy from the bottom of his heart, but because he knows he can build Ziggler up into something greater. Now Dolph, he's a project, one might say a hot mess some days. He's too worried about how he presents himself. He's one of those pretty boys too often and the thing is he doesn't need to be. He's got the spark, but it's raw and most of it's untapped. He needs someone to bring out the better possibilities in him, to push him. Luckily, Dean knows he can do just that. He can see how to get him, where to hit with words and insults. He knows he's doing it perfectly when he's got the man screaming and steaming in his face tuesday night live. He tries not to smile as the shorter male pours out more of his soul and puffs out his chest.

The fact he managed to catch Dean off guard later the same night only proved to the champ he was right about the Show Off. What he had said to Dolph must had gotten to the kid from Cleveland like he wanted it to, but he never expected the man to put his opportunity for the title on the line. When he heard the news he knew he had to see it first hand. He wasn't disappointed at what he saw either. The kid really did have heart, and that's not something a person can measure. He's got resilience, got heart, and nobody can touch that.

He knows he's looking forward to facing Dolph Ziggler even before the Show Off pins Wyatt. When the match is over and Dolph stands tall, Dean watches as Erick Rowan attacks, coming out of nowhere, like he manifested into thin air. He doesn't really know what possessed him to run into the ring, it was like his legs moved on their own. He blinks, one minute he's standing on the commentary table, the next he's in the mix of the fighting, pulling Rowan from Dolph.

When his back is slam hard against the floor of the ring, Dean wonders how the hell he gets himself into situations like this.

 

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly one of my favorite drabbles.

**Author's Note:**

> Eh. *Shrugs and walks away*
> 
> Leave a comment on what you think?


End file.
